a veiled figure, accompanied by two eunuchs, that has just stepped
out into the walk from a side-path. The eunuchs cry out, and
imperiously command him to depart instantly. Mohammed stands still,
shrugs his shoulders, and regards them derisively.

"Are you the masters here in the park of the tschorbadji of
Cavalla?" he asks, proudly. "I shall depart when I choose, and
because I choose, and not because the strange servants of the
stranger have the insolence to order me to do so."

He said this in haughty, angry tones, and with sparkling eyes,
inclined his head slightly to the veiled female figure, and passed
slowly by her without even a curious glance.

But she stands still, and her black eyes burn like flames as her
gaze follows him, and her purple lips murmur, in low tones:
"Beautiful is he, as the young day; beautiful as the rosy dawn of
heaven! Oh, that it shone over me! Oh, that this sun were mine!"

He heeded her not; he did not hear the sweet whispering of her lips.




CHAPTER IX

A SOUL IN THE AGONIES OF DEATH.


THE narratives of the scha-er continued to resound in Mohammed's